


we belong in a movie

by sans_pourquoi



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M, On Set
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 12:18:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/926317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sans_pourquoi/pseuds/sans_pourquoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colin and Bradley are thrown for a loop when they find out that the script features a kissing scene between Merlin and Arthur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we belong in a movie

**Author's Note:**

> This is set (very) nebulously during the filming of season 4.
> 
> Massive thanks to [messyangel81](http://messyangel81.livejournal.com) for the beta!

“Well, this is shaping up to be another very heterosexual episode,” Eoin says with an eye on Colin, who’s cradling Bradley’s head in his lap.

“Piss off,” Bradley says. “I’m dying. Again. Show some respect.”

“Your fifth time dying this season, or sixth?” Eoin asks solicitously.

They’re sitting on the forest floor and waiting for the camera crew to fix whatever has gone wrong with the lights; they were told to stay in position, so here they are.

Sunshine filters through the greenery above them and warms Colin’s face, plays off the gold in Bradley’s hair. It’s a pretty tableau, except that Bradley’s shoulders are bony from this angle, and Colin’s not had nearly enough coffee to stay awake through long waits in idyllic surroundings.

He’s just leaned back and closed his eyes—for a second, honest—when Ella the production assistant materializes next to them.

“Makeup not melted off yet? Good, good,” she says, checking them over. “By the way, Colin, Bradley—Johnny wants to see you tonight after you’re done shooting, okay?”

Colin feels abruptly more awake. Bradley lifts his head from Colin’s lap and says: “Sure. What about?”

“Don’t move!” Ella admonishes. “It’s to do with future episodes,” she adds vaguely. “Your wait’s almost over, just a sec more. Stay in place!”

With that instruction, she withdraws to the ranks of the crew, and Colin gives a sigh as Bradley plonks his head back in Colin’s lap.

“You and your pointy knees, Morgan,” Bradley grumbles.

“ _You’re_ complaining?” Colin huffs. “My legs have gone to sleep and you’re _heavy—”_

“Hey!” Bradley squints up at Colin, upside-down, with what is probably meant to be an impressive glare.

“Some days I worry that you two will get stuck in character forever,” Eoin says, musingly. “Most times though, I think it’d be hilarious.”

“Your face is hilarious,” Bradley says, clearly on reflex, even as Colin gives Eoin a long-suffering look.

Eoin grins at Colin. “Tired, mate?”

“Whatever gave you that idea,” Colin mutters.

Eoin’s lips quirk up, and Colin just knows that the next words out of his mouth will be teasing, somehow. “Don’t worry, you’ve got a nice long scene in Bradley’s bed coming up. A goblet dropped so _conveniently_ to make you crawl over Bradley, and he’s _naturally_ half-naked—”

“There was a time _you_ were in Merlin’s bed half-naked,” Colin reminds him even as he feels Bradley tense.

“Oh yeah,” Eoin says with a shit-eating grin. “I treasure the memory.”

“You’re enjoying this way too much, Macken,” Bradley says.

His tone is just a tad off from being genuinely lighthearted, and Colin frowns down at him—

But just then, they’re informed that the lights are fixed, and the moment is behind them as the cameras start rolling again.

***

The rest of the day whooshes by, fairly speeding towards the evening. They wrap the forest scene after just a few takes—Bradley feigns dying, Colin has a rushed conversation with Eoin about getting Arthur back to Camelot, and everyone is happy with how it’s gone. After that, Colin and Bradley move on to filming the famous scene in Arthur’s bed, and then there’s a long, meticulously choreographed fight sequence. Bradley shows off his sword-wielding skills, the lighting gets buggered once more, and Colin very nearly impales himself on a tree branch while doing a stunt. All business as usual.

Colin’s mostly come down from the adrenaline high by the time he and Bradley troop dutifully towards the producers’ den.

“So, why do you think we’ve been summoned?” Bradley asks idly.

Colin just shrugs. Ella didn’t sound like bad news was in store, but it could really be anything.

They don’t have to wonder long.

Johnny greets them eagerly and launches right into the explanation—one that leaves Colin trying hard not to gape.

“You lads are among the first to hear about this: we’ve decided to revise the script for the episode with Arthur’s kidnapping,” Johnny says, handing them the printed pages. “Here, see—instead of a poison, we’re going to have the princess slip Arthur a love potion.”

“Right.” Bradley shuffles his papers, looking over the scene. “Then how does Merlin get knocked out? He was supposed to drink half of my glass.”

Johnny beams.

Colin begins to have a bad feeling about this.

“You see, this was actually our original idea,” Johnny says, “but we felt it might have been a bit risqué. Now we’ve talked to a few people, and by all accounts it’s something that’s going to fly well with much of the audience. What I mean to say is—we’ve decided to make it a love potion after all, and let Arthur and Merlin kiss.”

This is when Colin is stunned into silence, and Bradley starts looking shell-shocked.

 _Let_ Arthur and Merlin kiss? That makes it sound like it’s something the creators of the show have been considering, but—that can’t be right. That’s the stuff of jokes, jabs, fan imaginings. _Isn’t it?_

“The move is a bit daring, of course,” Johnny allows, giving them a smile. “But we thought it would add a very interesting dimension to your relationship for those who’re invested in your characters.”

“An interesting dimension?” Bradley croaks.

Colin’s with him on this, because is Johnny suggesting—

“Don’t worry, I’m not saying you’ll get a romantic storyline or anything.” Johnny spreads his hands. “The show isn’t changing direction. Merlin and Arthur won’t even remember their kiss—otherwise it would muddy the waters too much.”

“Right,” Bradley says.

“But Merlin and Arthur will get their moment,” Johnny continues, “and the audience will remember what the pair of you so briefly were, even if you were enchanted. It can be a poignant scene if played the right way.”

Colin swallows and lowers his eyes to the papers in his lap. 

This—this is—well.

Sure, Colin’s kissed his co-stars before, but this is entirely different, because it’s _Bradley._ The mere idea of shooting a romantic scene together is unbelievably awkward, especially after so many years of ignoring the innuendoes about their characters’ relationship. They’ve learnt to shrug off the jokes, found a way to not let it interfere with their friendship, and now—

They’re avoiding each other’s eyes already.

Damn.

“What about Gwen?” Colin forces out.

“What _about_ her?” Johnny asks, turning to him. “It’s not as if Arthur is cheating on her—he can’t help his actions while under the love potion. And they aren’t yet married. In fact, it runs as a nice parallel to Gwen’s own earlier betrayal.”

Bradley visibly boggles. “But Arthur doesn’t know that she and Lancelot were enchanted. And Gwen won’t know that Arthur and Merlin—er—had the same thing happen to them. Or will she find out?”

“No,” Johnny says patiently, “but the _audience_ will know, and they will notice the symmetry.”

He seems very convinced of this.

Colin, meanwhile, feels like he’s landed in some bizarre dimension where fan ideas are bleeding into the actual show, and he’s not particularly liking the experience.

“Speaking of the audience,” Bradley says. “Won’t we have a riot on our hands? I mean, we’re a family show and everything.”

“Nonsense!” Johnny declares. “You’ve heard the fans. They’re waiting for you two to do it as it is. And as for the conservative public—you’ll be enchanted, won’t you? In-story, nobody will know it’s happened, and even Merlin and Arthur won’t remember it afterwards.”

Well, Merlin and Arthur might not, but Colin and Bradley certainly will.

And so will the rest of the world.

Damn, damn, _damn._

***

Colin walks out of the meeting with a sense of impending doom, Bradley listless by his side. 

“I can’t believe them,” Bradley says, kicking a pebble out of their way.

“Yeah, me neither.”

“I mean, why would they do that?” Bradley waves an arm in a wide gesture, his movements jerky, exaggerated. He’s still studiously avoiding looking at Colin. “Merlin drinking out of my goblet was far-fetched anyway, and now it just makes no sense at all, when does he ever try my drinks—never, that’s when—”

“Bradley—”

“And it’s a pretty convenient time to start, isn’t it, ” Bradley carries on, as if he hadn’t heard. “And wouldn’t it be better to at least hit them with a spell or something, I mean—”

“Bradley.”

“Merlin might have got in the way or—oh, I don’t know, this here is way too convoluted to be an actual viable plan—”

“ _Bradley_.”

Colin stops walking and just _looks_ at Bradley, and then Bradley halts as well, closing his mouth abruptly. The awkwardness of the situation rings out clearer in the silence that replaces Bradley’s nervous babble.

It takes Bradley a few moments of scrutinizing the grass under their feet before he finally raises his eyes to Colin’s.

“Look,” Colin says. “About the—the scene. It’ll be weird, but we’ll be fine. Right?”

Even disregarding the massive importance of keeping up their professional relationship—

They’re best friends. They’ve fought villains and monsters together. Or, well, faced early calls and green screens. They fit seamlessly with one another, despite their differences, and their distinct brands of craziness combine and feed off each other in ways that are brilliant, and unique. Surely they won’t be undone by one scripted kiss?

Bradley smiles at Colin—just a quirk of his lips, but the lightness of it reaches his eyes.

“Yeah, of course, Cols, we’ll be fine. It’s just—as you say, it’ll be weird.” 

Then, Bradley’s gaze flits to Colin’s mouth, and _stays there,_ and Colin’s lips tingle at the realization that Bradley must be thinking of what it’ll be like to kiss him.

That is—weird, yes, and not an idea they’ve ever entertained about each other before. The thought of it makes Colin’s breath stutter in his lungs.

And then Bradley looks up. When their eyes meet he jerks his head back, as if scalded, and— _is that a blush on his face?_

Colin looks hurriedly away.

“So,” he says. That is marginally better than _shit,_ which is what he’s thinking. He wills himself to break the pause with something, anything. “On the bright side, they’re not making you snog Gaius.”

This, at least, startles Bradley out of his embarrassment. He gives a bark of laughter and meets Colin’s eyes again, clearly just as determined to bring them back to familiar ground. “Or Geoffrey of Monmouth.”

“Or the _dragon.”_

“Come on, they’d never have _me_ snog the dragon. You’re the dragonlord, it should be your thing.”

“Ew, no. He’s like, bound to obey me.”

“Bound, you say? Hmm. Kinky.”

A grin is tugging at the corner of Colin’s mouth.

“You’re a sick, sick man, James,” he says.

“We’ve had the pot-kettle conversation already, _Colin_. Let’s not get repetitive.”

They’re halfway to costume trailers by the time Colin realizes they’ve started walking again. Bradley bumps Colin’s shoulder with his own, a gleam of mirth in his eyes, and Colin feels something settle in his chest as he smiles back.

***

Predictably, Colin and Bradley get a lot of ribbing from all and sundry about this new turn in Merlin and Arthur’s relationship. There is a lot of talk of the king and his manservant finally acting on their feelings, climbing out of the royal closet, and maybe adopting a baby dragon sometime in the future.

“Yes, yes, I know our love is transcendent,” Bradley finally snaps at Tom and Eoin, who’re sitting across from them on the bus the next morning. “Now can you shut up for ten goddamn minutes?”

“Noooo,” Eoin says, still fighting his fit of giggles. “You’re not getting Merlin forever, Bradders. He’s going to ditch you and fall for Gwaine. I’ve got much better hair.”

Bradley growls under his breath, all uncaffeinated rage, and Colin thrusts an earbud into his hand. “Here.” To Eoin, he says, with deliberate calm: “I don’t know if hair alone is gonna do it, mate.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’ll first want to compare the size of our _swords.”_ Eoin winks, prompting a fresh chortle from Tom and Rupert and a groan from Katie and Angel.

The latter two, actually, aren’t reacting to the news as Colin had expected. He’d figured they’d be pleased—they’ve always cooed over Arthur and Merlin’s rare emotional moments on screen, and insisted theirs was a true and enduring love. But, beyond the initial _oh my god are you shitting me_ , Angel and Katie haven’t really pitched in with their opinions on the kiss.

Then again, Colin hasn’t spent that much time with them since yesterday.

Once they get to location and out of costume and makeup, Katie goes off with one of the camera units to be evil Morgana, and Colin passes the morning filming with Richard and brewing suspect potions. When lunch rolls around, Bradley’s still being lied to by his treacherous uncle Agravaine, so Colin winds up eating with Katie and Angel.

Naturally, this is also when the subject of his and Bradley’s scene surfaces again.

“The problem,” Angel says, pointing her fork at Colin, “is that they’re having you do the same thing as Santiago and me. We were all enchanted and didn’t mean it.”

“Feel like answering for your actions?” Colin asks half-heartedly.

“Well, it would be more interesting for me, wouldn’t it?” Angel says. “I’d get to have actual shades of grey.”

“Right,” Colin says, fishing a tomato out of his salad.

“At least with you the kissing serves a purpose,” Katie tells Angel. “But those boys? They’re just kissing because they look pretty together.”

At that, Colin can’t help but choke a little. “What?”

“Well, look at the storyline!” Katie says, sitting back in her chair. “Gwen and Lancelot are the lovers of legend, and they actually advance the plot when Gwen gets chucked out of Camelot. You and Arthur kiss, nothing changes! It’s pure fanservice, like—like mine and Angel’s boobs, or the guys being shirtless half the time. I mean, I guess Bradley should be used to it by now.”

Colin’s still stuck on the idea that him and Bradley kissing can be considered _fanservice_ when Angel chimes in:

“Oh come on, it’s worse than that. Look at what they’re implying! It’s one thing if Arthur and Merlin would have snogged because they felt like it, but instead they’re going to be doped up. They’re gay for each other, but acting on it is not their fault!”

“Yeah, right?” Katie says, flipping her hair back. “It’s like—they’re only kissing because they’re not in their right minds. They’d never do it otherwise.”

“Well, they wouldn’t,” Colin points out. “They’re straight.”

His insightful contribution goes ignored.

“Never mind all their totally sober flirting and how obviously they care for each other—we can’t let them be openly gay,” Katie barrels on. “They’re not in love, nope, not at _all_.”

Colin frowns and puts his utensils aside. “Do you honestly feel it’s sending out that message?”

Katie and Angel exchange glances, and seem to deflate slightly.

“There’s something off about this, yeah,” Angel says. “But it’ll depend on your interpretation, I suppose. If you don’t think Merlin and Arthur are in love to begin with, you probably won’t have a problem. Anyway, it’s likely a case of throwing a bone to a certain subset of fans, nothing deeper than that.”

“Damn.” Colin rubs his forehead. “Why can’t Merlin have a sudden thing for Morgana instead? It’d be so much less complicated.” Then his brain catches up to what he’s just said, and he looks at Katie in mortification. “I mean—not that I—it’d just be—”

But Katie’s laughing, an honest merry chuckle, and Angel adopts a mockingly chiding look.

“Anything you want to share with the class, Colin?” she asks.

“Oh no, don’t harass him, I get it.” Katie reaches to pat his arm. “Merlin and Morgana don’t have much in the way of love, do they? At least you get Arthur. I have no love interests to speak of. Not in the true-love sort, anyway.”

Colin sighs. “Seriously. Arthur’s true love is sitting right next to you.”

It’s Angel’s turn to stroke Colin’s arm. “Oh, don’t worry about my feelings. I knew from the start that you and Arthur were a package deal.”

They’re both out to get him. He should have known.

***

That evening, Colin is over at Bradley’s, both of them sprawled on the couch in front of the TV. An inane programme is on, and normally they’d be taking the mickey out of it, but they’re both too tired after a long week of filming. Bradley snorts occasionally or rolls his eyes at Colin, but Colin has pretty much tuned the TV out.

Instead, his brain has chosen this moment to mull over Katie and Angel’s assessment of the upcoming kiss. The scene does feel quite deliberately gratuitous, in-story parallels notwithstanding—but Colin’s not sure what that means. Is this a nod to those fans who feel that Merlin and Arthur belong together? If so, is it disrespectful? Also, what does it imply in terms of the creators’ views on Merlin and Arthur’s relationship?

It’d be nice to discuss this with Bradley, but then—well. The subject is a bit of a minefield. So far, they’ve dealt with the kissing scene by not dealing with it at all, and it’s worked just fine.

Then again, they’re going to have to talk about it at some point, right? If nothing else, they’ll have to practise their lines…

Colin bites his lip, indecisive, and glances at Bradley out of the corner of his eye. Bradley, though, looks at him at the exact same moment and raises his eyebrows at whatever he sees in Colin’s face. “Col? What’s up?”

Their looming romantic scene has jammed Colin’s brain, that’s what.

Fuck this. Are they friends who can talk to each other or not?

“Look, Katie and Angel were saying—they had a whole Arthur and Merlin rant, right.” Bradley’s jaw tightens a bit at the choice of subject, but Colin plows on: “They basically said that the kiss is the same kind of fanservice as their boob shots. That it serves no purpose, and is basically only there to—titillate the fans, I suppose.”

Bradley rubs the bridge of his nose. “Ah. Well, maybe. I don’t see the point of it, personally. Unless it’s to make Arthur look even more ridiculous.”

“Arthur?” Colin repeats. “What about Merlin?”

Still, he thinks, it figures. Bradley’s been grumbling about Arthur’s portrayal this season for a while now.

“Oh come on, the worst that happens to Merlin is that you get to snog the king,” Bradley says. “But for me, the episode was bad enough before they changed it, you know—I get ambushed and kidnapped _from my own quarters_. Like, what’s with that? Am I the mighty legendary king or not?”

Colin hums in agreement, but Bradley raises his head and goes on as if he’d objected:

“No, but _really_. I already spend half the time knocked out and unable to remember things. And I’m manipulated by, like, everyone around. And on top of that, do I really have to blank out on some date rape drug and, whatever, engage in mutual molestation with my manservant? Like, does that really need to happen?”

“Feeling taken advantage of?” Colin asks lightly, once Bradley has run out of breath.

Bradley’s lips twist in a sheepish smile. “Stupid, right?”

“Nah.” Colin stretches and in so doing slides even lower down on the couch. “I get what you mean. But speaking purely for Merlin, I’m glad he’s not going to remember. There’s, like, enough problems in his life.”

Bradley snorts. “Oh, I’m sorry that kissing Arthur is such a chore, _Mer_ lin,” he drawls, and surprises Colin into a laugh.

Maybe Bradley’s got the right idea. If they can’t ignore the scene, joking about it is the next best thing.

“Yeah,” Colin says, “it’s all _muck out my stables, Merlin_ , and _wash my floors, Merlin_. I don’t have time for this additional _servicing_.”

“We may have to cut down on your chamberpot duties,” Bradley says magnanimously. “Someone else can take care of that while you’re busy _servicing_ me.”

“We’re both under a love potion,” Colin protests, fighting a grin. “Maybe it’s you who’s servicing me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Bradley says, chin raised. “You’ll serve me till the day you die, remember? You _live_ to take orders from me.”

“I’m pretty sure I just pretend to take your orders and instead do whatever I feel is best for you.” Colin waggles his eyebrows meaningfully. “So, you know, I may decide that it’s best for you to keep me _happy_.”

“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” Bradley shakes his head. “A bit of love potion and you’re all about mutiny.”

“It’s not mutiny if we _both_ want you to—um.” Colin snaps his mouth shut, and pretends that he didn’t almost take the conversation right to the gutter.

Bradley’s eyes are glittering in a way that suggests he’s guessed some of Colin’s thoughts and is having fun at Colin’s expense. “We both want me to what?”

Colin knows better. He does. Really.

Bradley just brings out the worst in him.

“Well,” Colin says, purposefully nonchalant, “I’m sure we could put that bossy mouth of yours to good use.”

Bradley raises an eyebrow.

“That assumes I wouldn’t rather be making use of yours. And you know, I’m the king. My desires come first.”

“And is it not your desire to ravish me?” Colin gives Bradley a look from under his eyelashes, and Bradley actually sputters.

He makes an admirable recovery, however. “I would think it’s _you_ who can’t keep your hands off my perfect body.”

“And yet it’s you who keeps touching _me_ —”

“You just _wish_ I’d order you on your knees in front of me—”

“You probably want me to bend _you_ over—”

Colin inhales, tilts his head—and realizes with a jolt that he and Bradley are unexpectedly near, having shifted together without him noticing. Bradley’s eyes are inches from his, so blue and wild, and—

Colin could lean in and cover Bradley’s lips with his, right now. No scripts, no camera crew, nothing; he could close the distance and find out what it’s like. He could bite that lower lip, swipe his tongue in to taste—

“Cols,” Bradley gasps.

Colin jerks his eyes back to Bradley’s, and freezes.

His own shocked desire is reflected in Bradley’s gaze, but there’s also vulnerability, and a look of something he’s never seen before, and—

What the fuck are they doing?

“I,” Colin says, swallowing with a dry throat.

Bradley’s leaning slightly over him, looking wrecked. Their faces are so close, and this is a _terrible idea,_ but—

“Fuck,” Bradley breathes.

Colin’s heart gives a lurch when Bradley sways forward a bit, like he might maybe—

But Bradley only lowers his head and exhales heavily.

Their eye contact is broken, and Colin’s feeling suddenly cold. Ruthlessly, he reminds himself that it’s a good thing; at least one of them should remember that this isn’t right, this isn’t _them._

The goddamn scripted kiss has been fucking with his head, with both their heads, maybe, and now—

Bradley leans back, creating more space between them. It doesn’t get any easier to breathe.

“I guess I—I’d better go,” Colin forces out, hoping his voice doesn’t sound as scratchy to Bradley as it does to him.

Bradley runs a hand through his hair, looking as lost as Colin feels.

“I, ah.” Bradley swallows.  “All right. If you—yeah.”

“Yeah.” Colin pushes off the couch. “I’ll—see you.”

Luckily, he encounters no one in the corridor during the dash to his room. Then he’s free to fall back against the door, bang his head on it—once, or twice—and let out a couple of choice swear words.

***

Colin had forgotten what it was like, not spending most of his free time with Bradley. But, bizarrely, it feels like the easier option at first.

They’ve crossed a line, and Colin has no idea where either of them stands.

It’s not even that they’re both guys. Colin has known of his own broad preferences for a long time, and Bradley—well, he’s seen Bradley flirt with men before, whether Bradley was doing it consciously or not. And he knows Bradley’s not homophobic or anything; they’ve never discussed it, but they’ve both got friends and acquaintances who are openly gay or bi. That’s not the issue.

But Colin’s head is a mess. He’s not sure where it came from, this sudden attraction to Bradley—Bradley, with his stupidly perfect face and distracting physicality. Bradley’s been his friend for so long, and their lives have been so intertwined… Maybe Colin has overthought their upcoming kiss to such an extent that his brain is giving out attraction signals just to make sense of his confusion. Or else his mind is short-circuiting because he’s having to consider Bradley in a sexual light for the first time.

Either way, since that incident on Bradley’s couch every look at Bradley is like a punch to the gut, and it’s _not_ _helping._

So keeping distance from Bradley is easier, in the immediate aftermath. Colin more or less hides away all weekend, and it doesn’t occur to him until later to wonder what it means that Bradley doesn’t initiate contact, either.

Other cast members pick up on the tension between Bradley and Colin in no time, but they don’t pry, believing the impending scene is to blame. Some of them look contrite, actually, thinking that their teasing might have played a part in the rift. They tiptoe a little about them both, and make no further reference to Merlin and Arthur’s eternal love. That, at least, is a welcome development.

Colin and Bradley have scenes together come Monday, but they’re mostly with the knights or Agravaine there to act as a buffer. They eat in a group and Bradley leaves with the knights, instead of waiting for Colin like he normally might have. He and Colin look away in a hurry when their eyes happen to meet, and then Colin realizes that three days have passed and they’ve not exchanged a word that was not scripted.

Suddenly, it’s no longer easy to be distant; it’s pretty shit, to be honest. But Colin doesn’t know how to fix them, and the mutual avoidance stretches on.

Colin knows they’ll have to talk, but he still doesn’t know what to say, or how Bradley might respond. Bradley’s a mystery to him these days. Maybe he misses Colin, but maybe he’s freaked out by what had very nearly happened; Colin’s kind of assuming that, at the very least, Bradley was just as shocked as Colin, and also needed some time to sort himself out. Maybe he needs more time still.

But the silence between them is driving Colin a little nuts now that he’s noticed how loud it is.

He looks at Bradley and wants his best friend back. He looks at Bradley and wants to un-see how ridiculously beautiful his smile is. He looks at Bradley and _wants,_ damn it.

***

Naturally, the filming of the kissing scene takes place two days later, because someone up there hates Colin and likes to watch him suffer.

“Right, lads, so remember: this was a love potion, not a lust potion. Let’s keep it PG, okay?” says Alice, the director for this episode, vaguely gesticulating with a clipboard.

Colin nods, and Bradley shifts next to him, tugging at his sleeves.

“Where do you want my hands?” Bradley asks Alice, his voice admirably business-like despite the nervous movement. “Are we supposed to hug, or shall I keep them by my sides, or—”

“Just go with what feels right,” Alice advises him as the camera crew finishes setting up in Arthur’s chambers.

That’s where Arthur and Merlin have withdrawn after accidentally sharing Arthur’s spiked wine. This was not what the evil visiting princess intended, of course, but her plan has gone awry. Or so it has in this revised version of the episode; in the original, she was in league with Morgana, and Arthur’s drugged antics played directly into her trap. According to the new script, though, the princess is presumably simmering in frustration somewhere as Arthur gets ready to bestow kisses upon Merlin instead of her.

Unlike some previous instances of enchanted love, and in true parallel to Gwen and Lancelot, Arthur and Merlin’s scene is to be played for full dramatic value. This is not a humorous affair like Arthur’s fixation on Vivian; no, Arthur and Merlin are hit by an onslaught of feelings they’re not sure what to do with. They don’t realize the drugged wine is to blame any more than Gwen suspected her bracelet.

When Alice calls _action_ , Colin thinks wryly that at least he and Bradley have the conflicted emotions down pat.

“Merlin,” Bradley says, reaching a hand towards Colin. “I—I have no right to ask this of you—but you are all that matters to me in the world.”

“And you are the same to me,” Colin murmurs, stepping closer.

They meet in the middle, and there’s a moment of hesitation—it works well for the characters, but it’s entirely genuine—before their lips touch.

The kiss is chaste, as requested, but Colin still feels a shiver run down his spine at the slide of Bradley’s mouth against his. Bradley draws away, then, and looks him in the eye.

“Cut!” Alice calls out, thankfully breaking the moment. “Let’s run through it again.”

They do six more takes, from different angles.

Colin finds himself wishing there was another character with him and Bradley in the scene, because it’s difficult for them to act unwittingly enchanted with no-one there to point out how weird they’re being. It would also help if they could do something wildly out of character, like propose immediate marriage (Arthur’s standard modus operandi in such situations) or even tumble into bed together, like Arthur and Vivian did. But that’s all too suggestive, so they have to stick with soulful confessions and a kiss, and just hope that the audience remembers about the spiked wine.

It’s a bit of an uphill struggle to be drugged up but not insincere, anxious but not anguished, in love but not in lust. The scene doesn’t feel any more natural the more they do it; there’s falseness to it that Colin dislikes, even in the last takes.

He’s not sure Alice is fully satisfied, either.

“Tell you what, lads, let’s take a break, and then we’ll do it again, but change the lines up, all right?” Alice says soon, confirming his suspicions. She frowns at the script, a mobile phone in hand. “There’s something not quite clicking here.”

Colin nods, stifling a sigh. It would have been too easy if they had nailed the kiss in a couple of quick takes, he supposes.

After the break, they try it so that Arthur kisses Merlin before confessing his feelings; then they try it with Merlin making the first step; they even try it with most of the dialogue ad-libbed.

By the end, Colin feels wrung out, flayed open, bent so many times he’s close to breaking.

“I’ll always be by your side, you know that,” he tells Bradley, voice soft.

“Always?” Bradley is looking into his eyes intently, a thumb caressing Colin’s cheekbone.

“Forever. And longer, if I have to,” Colin promises.

“There’s been something about you from the start, Merlin,” Bradley murmurs, and leans in to kiss him, so gentle it makes something in Colin’s chest ache.

“I love you,” Colin whispers, his breath ghosting over Bradley’s lips.

“Always,” Bradley agrees.

He’s still holding Colin’s face between his palms, and the words taste like they’ve just sealed an oath.

***

After what felt like half a day of kissing and exchanging declarations with Bradley, Colin needs a while to clear his head and separate illusion from reality. He’s an actor; he knows how to compartmentalize. Normally. In this case, it’s proving—a little difficult, thanks to his jumble of what may or may not be feelings for Bradley.

He _liked_ kissing Bradley, is the thing. He liked having an excuse to touch him. Even with the cameras and the people and the setup, he liked seeing Bradley look at him like that.

There were a few worrying moments when Colin didn’t know when Merlin ended and he began, in terms of their emotions, and whether it was Merlin who couldn’t get enough of Arthur or himself pining for Bradley.

With relief, Colin figures that at least the drama of the kissing scene is now behind them.

That just shows what he knows.

The following Tuesday, Alice corners him once he’s finished shooting with Richard.

“There you are,” she says, “just the man I wanted to see. Have you got a moment?”

“Sure. Is anything the matter?” Colin asks, cautious.

“Nothing serious, don’t worry,” the director replies, and drags him over to Bradley, who’s sitting in a foldable chair and reading over the script.

Bradley’s eyes flit between Colin and Alice as he gets up to greet them, visibly startled. 

“Everything all right?” he asks.

And then Alice drops the bomb.

“We’re doing some reconfiguring of the kidnapping episode, boys,” she says without preamble. “And it looks like we’re going back to the original script and scrapping the kiss after all.”

Colin and Bradley both gape at her, then.

“We—what?” Bradley blurts out, before apparently collecting himself. “I mean, how come, seeing as we’ve already filmed the scene?”

Colin really, really wants to hear that there is a good reason for them having needlessly gone through all that turmoil. He looks at Alice expectantly.

“Oh, well, it’s pacing issues, mostly,” Alice says. “You know how it is. Late additions to the script don’t always work out, and this one didn’t. It breaks the momentum leading up to the kidnapping.”

“But,” Colin says. It’s not that he wants the kiss the stay; not at all, but. “Wasn’t the kiss supposed to be a big deal, parallels, symbolic meaning? Johnny said…”

“Oh yes,” Alice agrees. “But it’s not exactly vital to the plot, is it?”

Colin frowns. This, to him, doesn’t sound like enough of an explanation for the abrupt about-face on the issue.

Bradley must be thinking along the same lines, because he remarks: “Johnny said—well, as Colin here pointed out, Johnny said that scene was supposed to be _poignant_.”

“And it was,” Alice assures them. “In fact—you could say it was a little too poignant.”

Bradley looks at her blankly. “What do you mean?”

“Ah.” Alice smiles, rueful. “Well, as it happens, one of the problems with that scene is that, if we keep it in, we might… permanently alter how people see Arthur and Merlin’s relationship.”

“Um.” Colin suddenly feels like they’re treading on dangerous ground. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“No. Well. Put bluntly—” Alice shrugs. “We were going for poignant, yes, but we ended up with a bit more than that. We ended up with something that, instead of looking like an aberration in your relationship, looks like it fits right in. It’s not supposed to look _quite_ so natural for Merlin and Arthur to kiss.”

A small silence follows that statement, and Colin attempts to school his face into an expression of composure. If Bradley is trying to do the same, he’s failing miserably.

“Look,” Alice says then, with a sigh. “You two have always had great chemistry on screen, and it’s in fact one of the main selling points of the series. We should probably have expected what it would mean when it came to initiating some romantic action between the two of you, because—well, _of course_ you would make it work just as well as everything else. It’s not something that can be influenced, or faked. You just click, you know? And this would be great if you were the romantic leads, but you aren’t, so we have to make sure you don’t accidentally steal the thunder of the actual central romance of the series.”

“Steal the thunder,” Bradley repeats, voice flat.

Alice looks at him. “Well. It’s hardly ideal that this kiss of yours comes across as more romantic and emotional than Arthur’s kisses with Gwen.”

Bradley looks suddenly flushed. “We didn’t—”

“No, really, I’m not saying you’ve done a bad job,” Alice interrupts him, earnest. “What you’ve done is beautiful, actually. There’s raw honesty, and so much long-repressed feeling, and if I could, I’d have kept that final scene in and watched it make the audience cry. But the implications are too huge, especially with all that talk of destiny and whatnot. If every other relationship has to measure up against what the two of you could have had...”

Blood is pounding in Colin’s temples. Alice is still talking, he knows, but it’s all become noise in his ears, indistinguishable over his hammering heart.

He’s heard his chemistry with Bradley praised time and time again, and it’s never given him pause. But this—

They were too good at being in love.

And in the scene in question, it didn’t feel like he was acting.

It’s—god. It’s obvious what it means, and it explains everything. Everything about him and his reactions to Bradley, and probably also quite a lot about Arthur and Merlin and the way the others see a relationship there that was never in the script.

The realization knocks the breath out of him.

Still speechless, Colin nods through Alice’s goodbyes. When she walks off and leaves him and Bradley alone together for the first time in _days,_ he—

What is he supposed to do?

He’s wanted them to talk, and this is the perfect time, but—

“Cols,” Bradley says, quietly.

Colin turns to face Bradley and finds that Bradley is already looking at him, visibly ill at ease but spine determinedly straight.

“I…” Bradley clenches his jaw, gives a small shake of his head. “Walk with me?”

Colin just blinks at him for a moment. But of course there was always going to be only one answer to that.

So he says: “All right.”

***

Apparently, they’re headed for Bradley’s trailer. Colin’s heart somersaults in his chest all the way.

The prospect of finally discussing this thing between them is as terrifying as it is thrilling, now that he knows what is hanging in the balance. As they step inside the trailer, Colin has to fight a momentary urge to flee, because—what if they fuck this up?

He has _no idea_ what he’s walking into, or what will be left of him by the time their conversation is done.

Only there’s no talking.

The moment the door closes behind them, Bradley steps up to Colin—right into his personal space, pressing him up against the trailer wall—and stares into his eyes for a second before closing in and claiming his mouth in a kiss.

Colin falls into it like he’s been starving for it, which—well, he kind of has been.

The taste and shape of Bradley’s lips are familiar, and Colin draws Bradley even closer as a shiver runs through him. Bradley’s urgent, almost frantic; he kisses Colin like he’s not sure he’ll ever get to do it again, like he’s trying to _prove_ something by pressing his lips in a desperate caress against Colin’s.

Which, wait, does that mean—

Colin’s breathless and suddenly hopeful when they separate, and his arms are still wound around Bradley’s neck when Bradley’s forehead rests against his.

“Fuck,” Bradley says, and closes his eyes. “Fuck, I’ve gone and done it, haven’t I.”

The warmth in Colin’s chest disappears as fast as it came. He draws away. “You—”

“Not like that!” Bradley’s eyes fly open and he stares at Colin, that hint of distress shining through again. “I just—honestly wanted to talk, not jump you like—I know that you don’t want—”

“What?” Colin isn’t sure he’s hearing right. “Bradley, I—what do you mean? I’m here, of course I—unless _you_ don’t—”

“Me?” Bradley echoes. His mouth twists, unexpectedly wry. “I hope you’re not asking about _me_ , because I’ve only been in love with you for the past… Jesus. Embarrassing number of years.”

Colin stills.

Bradley drops his eyes to the floor. “Don’t freak out,” he says, quietly.

“I’m not—”

“You did. Before. And that was only—over a kiss that didn’t even happen.”

Colin stares at Bradley incredulously. “I wasn’t—it wasn’t about that, you dolt! You’re my best friend, and I was scared—”

Colin’s head is swimming. His world is tilting, shifting into focus, illuminated by this new knowledge. _Bradley is in love with him._

Bradley is also standing in front of Colin looking like he’s waiting for Colin to bolt.

“I can still be your best friend. If you want to keep it like before, I mean,” Bradley says. “We can forget all of this, if you prefer that, okay? I just—I can, I’ve been—I’m used to—”

Colin grabs Bradley’s shoulders and shuts him up with another kiss, licking any further inanities out of his mouth. When they draw apart again, both breathing heavily, Colin looks Bradley in the eye, willing him to _see._

“I want this, okay?” Colin says. “I want this. And that day I wanted to kiss you. But I didn’t dare, I didn’t know—it took me by surprise, is all. I was an _idiot_ , and I’m sorry.”

“You—” Bradley stares at him. His fingers tighten on Colin’s shirt.

“I’m in love with you too, you twit,” Colin tells him.

“You just said you were the idiot,” Bradley points out. The expression on his face is still a bit dazed.

“Maybe we are both idiots,” Colin allows.

Bradley looks at him in silence for a moment, and then raises a hesitant hand to Colin’s face. Bradley’s fingers drift over Colin’s lips, his cheekbones, and Colin leans into the caress.

“Just so you know,” Colin murmurs. “If you’d made the first move that day, I wouldn’t have pushed you away. Quite the opposite, actually.”

Bradley smiles, and looks more like usual self. “Oh yeah? What would that opposite be?”

Colin flashes him a grin. “Well… we did discuss a few scenarios of potential ravishing…”

Bradley laughs then, delighted and a little giddy as he looks at Colin, as if he finds it hard to believe they’re both real. Maybe Colin isn’t the only one who’s had trouble telling illusion from fact.

Bradley’s arms circle Colin’s waist, and Colin presses closer, inhales the smell of Bradley’s skin.

This thing between them feels so new and fragile, and Colin knows there will be issues to sort out, later. They’ll need to make sure this doesn’t disrupt their work, and there will be some hashing out of how private they keep their relationship. They’ll probably argue, and maybe have more instances of terrible miscommunication. 

But right now, Colin smiles as Bradley’s stubble grazes his cheek, and he feels happiness grow in his chest for every moment that passes and leaves them still here. Together, as they should be.


End file.
